


i'd risk everything (except for you)

by cloudburst



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, cullen is pissy about it, soldiers get caught in the storm coast, they demand the inquisitor come personally
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-26 19:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19775191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudburst/pseuds/cloudburst
Summary: Cullen sighed, releasing the Inquisitor from his hold. He was the Inquisitor, then. He loved him all the same.Cullen attempts to keep the Inquisitor from risking his life. The Inquisitor does not like being lied to.





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> if you're reading, thank you sm!! this will most likely be three parts bc i wanted to send them somewhere rainy together. if u want to know what bellanaris looks like, here he is! https://twitter.com/zarainais/status/1140664477903458304 
> 
> (that's even better bc the screenshot is when he's standing at the wall from the desk scene hehe)

The reports came in all at once, and upon hearing the news, the mood in the Commander’s quarters became a solemn one. Men had been taken returning to Skyhold, and the Storm Coast was to be their mistress – rocky mountains and slick precipices perpetually drenched by the torrential downpour. And of course, it was a group of mercenaries. They had chosen to remain nameless, but they would require the Inquisitor in person were they to release the troops. They would require him to subject himself to danger, and the possibility of death at their hands. Cullen believed there was no way they would ever see these men again, and whose fault could it be if not his own? He had sent them there, and he had been unable to get them the needed rations in time to prevent their falling ill – to allow them the proper numbers to fight off this threat. Instead, they were sick and ailing. Now they would die. This was his fault, and he could find no one to push the blame to.

Yet there was no way the Inquisitor could know, as he would go without care for his own life – would rush into the fray without thinking of the consequences. (Cullen knew the Inquisitor always carefully considered his actions, however the Commander felt that Lavellan did not always draw the most logical of conclusions.) He called the meeting without Bellanaris. He shouldn’t have been surprised that he found out, anyways. 

“We could send a group of thirty men to the coast. I only hope we arrive in time.”

Leliana raised an eyebrow, the lilting tone of her voice lifting – not giving away anything in her one-worded question. “We?”

“I, of course, will go with them. This is a rescue effort, yes, but the Inquisitor cannot know of this.”

Josephine shook her head. “Do we believe it is wise to hide a mission of such scale from the Inquisitor? Should he find out about this, he will surely –“

Cullen splayed his hands on the table, looking between the Inquisition’s Spymaster and Ambassador. “He will not find out.”

Leliana scoffed, the serious moment passing as quickly as it had come. She was never one to ignore the miscalculations of others. “You can barely go a day without seeing the man when he is stationed at Skyhold. Do you really believe he will not notice your sudden absence? Particularly one without explanation? You must think this through, Commander.”

“I do not think that is –“

The door to the War Room opened, the Inquisitor striding through – commanding without trying, the braid at his scalp tangled with the rest of his dark hair. His posture said business, as did the wind-swept look with which he entered, and the demeanor with which he now regarded his advisors. “You do not think what, Commander?”

Cullen began to speak, but was once again cut off by Bellanaris – this time with words rather than action. “I was told by an Inquisition scout that I should be prepared to leave before the sun has risen tomorrow for my journey to the Storm Coast. I was also told that I was ‘quite late’ to my meeting.”

“Inquisitor, I –“

“Did you truly believe I would not find out about this?” Leliana looked between the two men, and though she would not say it, Cullen knew she was thinking she had told him so. She had. 

“I had hoped,” Cullen spoke truthfully. 

“Commander -,” he began, but Cullen would not let him finish. It was a breach in decorum as it stood, but there had already been several breaches to get them here – in this room without the Inquisitor’s knowledge. There would be several more, before this conversation was over. 

“Bellanaris, do not act as though I had no other motivation. Do not act like you would not risk your life senselessly, when I can just as well go and retrieve our men myself.”

“Commander, this is not the time –“

“No,” Cullen stopped him, clenching his fist on the table. His voice was not shaking. (It was, but he would not admit it.) The room had gone silent; the Inquisition’s ambassador showed nothing but concern, while the spymaster appeared amused, yet concerned as well. Leliana had told him so, after all. “This is exactly the time. You would have us sit back and watch as you throw yourself into the path of danger, knowing full well these mercenaries intend to kill you, or hand you over to the highest bidder. This is the time, if there ever was one.” 

Bellanaris stared at him, shaking his head once – disbelief evident on his face. “You make it sound like I am a child.” Then – a pause, stronger than any words of disappointment. “And that is not your decision to make alone, Cullen.”

“Perhaps not, but I have made it, and my men are set to travel for the Storm Coast at dawn. I had only wished to inform Leliana and Josephine of my intentions with this meeting. Nothing more.”

The Inquisitor placed both hands atop the war table, fingers splayed across the bottom of the map of Ferelden. His eyes scanned across his three advisors, as if he were searching for a clue of what to say next. He found none – and ultimately doubted he’d have heeded their advice. 

“I will be going to the Storm Coast as well. Cassandra, Varric, and Vivienne will accompany me. While your men approach the mercenary encampment, we will follow a plan to retrieve the men as outlined by the scouts Leliana will be sending ahead of us. Does this work for everyone?” 

Leliana nodded, then confirmed. “Yes, Inquisitor.” Josephine did the same. 

Cullen stared – sighing as he looked to the table in front of him. “Yes, Inquisitor.”

☼ ☼ ☼

Cullen wrapped his arms around the elf’s waist from behind, hoping to ease the tension in his shoulders. This did not work, and he’d not expected it to, not really – had held onto the vain hope that Bellanaris would not be angry with him for more than a moment. The Commander knew this went beyond not informing the man of his plans; it went into trust, into how willing he had been to move forward into life-threatening danger without so much as a warning thrown in Bellanaris’ direction. And perhaps he was angry about being lied to as well (there was no perhaps), not only with Cullen as his Commander – but as the man he loved. 

Bellanaris stood at the balcony in his quarters, looking out over the entrance to Skyhold – view stretching for miles and miles. He spoke, softly, without anger but sounding so all the same. He did not turn to look at Cullen, and so the Commander released him, going to stand next to the Inquisitor, daring only to quickly glance at his profile, afraid of what he’d find at further examination. “You can’t do that, Cullen. You can’t,” he paused, exhaling into the brisk air. His warm breath puffed out like a small cloud. “-just make an executive decision that is influenced by our relationship without consulting me. If you had asked, I’d have understood. Instead I feel shut-out, and unworthy of your time.”  
Cullen reached out to push a strand of hair behind the pointed ear. It had fallen into the Inquisitor’s face as he’d been speaking, and Cullen had not realized he had committed to the action until it was far too late. 

“Bellanaris.”

“I know that wasn’t your intention. But here we are, all the same – you, scared to touch me, and me? Upset because I still want you to.” Bellanaris turned to face him, stepping into the arms that had opened in anticipation; he did not return the embrace, arms at his sides, but instead slumped into Cullen with his whole body – voice muffled as he attempted to drown in the Commander. "I'm still angry with you," he said. But just for a moment, Bellanaris returned the hold - fingers digging for purchase in the fabric across Cullen's back. It was over too soon. “We will sleep apart, tonight.” He removed his face from Cullen’s chest. “My judgment is clouded when we are near each other, as is yours. And we must be at our best if we are to recover our men.”

Cullen sighed, releasing the Inquisitor from his hold. He was the Inquisitor, then. He loved him all the same. 

“I love you,” Cullen said into the waiting air. 

The door closed behind him. 

“I love you, more.”

The Commander did not hear.


	2. II.

The ride from Skyhold was hard – the weather not on their side as they travelled from the keep through the more difficult terrain of Ferelden, large mountains that at times did not offer the reprieve of a low path to cut through them. It was only through the knowledge of Leliana’s scouts, as well as the Inquisitor’s experience with working a landscape, that the ride to the coast took less than a week. The Inquisitor’s smaller, lighter group rode more quickly, a few hours’ travel ahead of the larger number of soldiers at all times. Cullen felt this was precautionary, as much as it was punishment on Bellanaris’ part. However, he supposed he needed to appraise all of the Inquisitor’s decisions without the blemish of their relationship – as tactically, it made sense for him to ride ahead. Strictly speaking, it put all of them in less danger. He would be able to flee if need be, without worrying about the men he was leaving to fend for themselves – as Bellanaris’ party was as quick as he – and the soldiers did not have that responsibility consistently resting atop their already sagging shoulders. The weight of the Inquisitor’s life was not an addition they should have to bare, if unnecessary. 

Strategically intelligent did not make the Commander any less cold in his tent. 

(Bellanaris’ toes were always cold, anyways. He did not wish to feel the cool press of the Inquisitor’s feet moving up and down his leg.) 

(He did.)

The first day they were in the Storm Coast was preparation: the revision of the plan the Inquisitor had thrown together using knowledge from Leliana’s forward scouts. They planned to use the troops as a distraction, entering the mercenary hideout head-on. It would take them just enough time to realize the Inquisitor was not, in fact, bringing up the rear as Cullen would explain – for Vivienne and Bellanaris to sneak into the encampment, Vivienne enchanted and Bellanaris naturally silent. Varric and Cassandra would stand watch, Varric with the high-ground, and Cassandra ready to take on any man who would dare cross her. As Sera once said, Cullen would stand behind her in front of anything; the same applied for anyone who knew the Seeker. 

“Ser, visitor for you.” One of Cullen’s favorite messengers stood at the edge of his tent, fist placed over her heart. 

“Tell them I am busy, particularly if it’s that scoundrel Rufus. I have told him he cannot send scouts to follow my movements, just so he can court me. It’s ridiculous how uninterested I am in his advances, and it is a waste of resources he could otherwise be allocating in aid of the Inquisition, which is a different issue that-”

The messenger dropped both arms to her sides, interrupting the Commander. “Ser, this is an important visitor. They wanted to discuss preparations for tomorrow with you. I am unsure if you’d like for them to wait much longer.” She had a slight smile on her face, and oh- Cullen was an idiot.

It was all fine, however, when the messenger dipped her head ever-so-slightly at the Inquisitor’s entrance. He was drenched, and only then was Cullen brought out of his focus-induced stupor – noticing the heavy drops of rain dashing across the thick fabric of his tent. He was grateful the wind had not yet decided to pick up, and was even more grateful for the expression across Bellanaris’ face. 

“I understand why you are angry with me,” Cullen said, taking a step toward the Inquisitor, who had made his way to the center of the tent. A water droplet fell from the braid at his scalp. Cullen wanted to tug on it. “And I will not make such a miscalculation again. You deserve to know – should know, as your position entails – the plans in which I engage, the movement of my troops. The love I feel for you should only bolster my respect for your position.” He looked to the ground. “And I fear that it weakened it. It will not happen again.” 

There was a hand on his cheek – forcing him to tilt his head up just enough, eyes looking down to meet Bellanaris’ green ones. “I know.” 

The Inquisitor kissed him, then, removing his hand from the Commander’s cheek to grip the front of his coat, pulling him close. Cullen kept his face tilted downward, so their foreheads could connect once the kiss was over, the Inquisitor still gripping his coat tightly. Cullen wrapped his arms around Bellanaris’ waist. For the first time in days, he was warm. 

“I must ask, riding separately from the troops – that was a strategic move?”

Bellanaris looked confused as he pulled back to look at Cullen’s face – still in his embrace, and Cullen hoped that he would not comprehend the meaning behind his question. He did not wish to upset the Inquisitor by attributing to him a false cruelty. 

“What else would it be, vhenan?” He questioned, but the Commander could see the moment the Inquisitor realized what he had meant; his expression darkened, but there was no anger in his voice. “I’m sorry you thought I’d try to harm you through continued separation. I chose to do so prior to our departure because I was still upset, and knew that I would not forgive as quickly if I were unable to think about your reasons. Please don’t think I’d intentionally hurt you.” 

Cullen held him tightly, hoping Bellanaris would not let go. The warmth was beginning to make its way into his bones; he needed this to continue. “I am sorry I had even let the thought cross my mind. I have missed you these last few days, knowing you were so close but unavailable to me. It has been a trial of my mind and body.”

Bellanaris laughed, burying his face in Cullen’s neck – making it clear Cullen had been forgiven long ago, in the several days trek across Ferelden. “My feet have been very cold.” 

“Oh, Inquisitor,” Cullen sighed, placing a kiss into the dark brown hair tickling his chin. “I love when you say such things to me.”

“You know,” Bellanaris began. “I have a bit of time before I ride back to the forward camp. We’ll see if you can remedy this.”

“Just try and stop me.”

☼ ☼ ☼

Of everything that could have happened in this venture to the Storm Coast, this was the last one Cullen had been expecting. The gloved hand across his mouth was something of a shock, particularly as they explained he was, in fact, the target. It was all very convoluted, something Josephine would have been better suited to explain – about the Inquisition owing favors and having friends in high places – about one individual with whom they needed to settle the score. They had heard about Cullen’s relationship with the Inquisitor, and sought to cash in; kidnapping the Inquisitor would mean an attack they could not defend. But kidnapping the Commander meant the Inquisitor wanted something from them. That was their explanation, anyway. 

Cullen’s head was pounding; they’d definitely punched him. 

“The Inquisitor is not even that great,” Cullen said as he was walked to the meeting point. They insisted on calling it the rendezvous, as if what they were doing was a  
secret and not an ill-advised mistake, crossing the most powerful institution in Thedas. “He likely won’t be able to do what it is you desire.”

“I desire nothing but the head of a blonde bitch of an elf.” A few of the mercenaries around the supposed leader sighed, but seemed to agree after glancing at the scars across the woman’s face. It did not click who the mercenary could be referring to until the Commander’s mind scanned through the Inquisitor’s inner circle: Sera. Bellanaris would never agree to that. There would have to be another way, or there wouldn’t be. The gravity of the situation hit him as they entered a clearing in an area of the coast he’d never been. After all the Inquisitor had been through, he would never ask him to sacrifice the life of a friend for the Commander’s own. It would be unfortunate if this were the last time they were to see each other.

Bellanaris appeared calm as he approached, though Cullen knew this was a facade, and the mercenary leader looked smug as she moved to the middle of the clearing. The rain did not touch them, as the trees surrounding them ensured this. Cullen’s bound hands longed to reach for the Inquisitor, but they were stuck, just as he was with a dagger pointed at his spine.

“What’s stopping us from taking out your group right now?” Bellanaris’ voice was nearly a low growl. Cullen was surprised the woman understood him. She was bolder than most.

“Other than the knife that will kill your Commander in seconds? Posterity!” She laughed, but there was no joy in it. “How will it look if the human’s little plaything lets him die because of foolishness? Elves are never the hero of the story, Inquisitor. Red Jenny should know this, and I demand you trade her for your Commander. She owes me a face, and her life.”

“Let Cullen go, and I will turn her in to you.” The expression on the Inquisitor’s face was unreadable. 

“That easy?”

Bellanaris nodded, speaking slowly – matching the merc’s tone. “That easy.”

“Go, retrieve her then.” Cullen’s breath caught in his throat as the Inquisitor walked away; Sera had not come with them, and there was no way she could have made it here – not that Bellanaris would have let her. As the Inquisitor left his line of sight, he began to lose hope he would return with any solution. At least his most recent memory of the two of them together was not one of strife, but of quiet lovemaking through a storm. 

The next moment felt as if it were an eternity – the sound of nothing but the rain and his breath to keep his wild thoughts in pleasant company. It was dark, though daytime, clouds blocking out the sun always – no reprieve from the shade. But light cut into the Commander’s thoughts as Sera entered the clearing, Bellanaris following close behind. Something was very wrong. 

“Ah, there she is. Red Jenny, slayer of nobles and protector of the poor.”

Sera continued her approach, clearly unafraid of the mercenary in front of her. Cullen wondered when she had learned such pride. 

“Yes,” she spoke. She sounded uncomfortable – unsure of herself, as if her words were a falsehood. “It’s me, Red Jenny.” 

The mercenary’s disquieting laughter carried across the clearing as she turned her attention to Bellanaris. “Hand her over.”

The Inquisitor nodded, stiffly, as if he were unsure. Cullen assumed he must be. He did not sound like himself. “She is yours.”

As soon as Sera reached them across the clearing, Cullen was free – approaching Bellanaris quickly – shameful and questioning. Bellanaris would not have easily given  
her up – wouldn’t have given her up at all. He reached out to grip the Inquisitor’s shoulder, but it had been too good to be true; he would always throw himself in the path of danger to save everyone, after all, whether he recognized this or not. 

Vivienne’s illusion shattered as she screamed. Bellanaris was with the woman – the mercenary leader – a dagger digging into his side. And Vivienne was where the Inquisitor had been standing. It was then Cullen realized the order of events that had gotten them here. 

Vivienne, of whom Bellanaris had often spoken of pertaining to her skill with enchantment – enchantment of people in her spare time, had used that very same magic, drawing upon the art of the shapeshifter to hide their identities for just a moment. Though Cullen knew the First Enchanter to be a difficult woman, he knew that she and the Inquisitor shared a friendship like no other. This would have been her worst nightmare, to see him injured indirectly through her magic; yet, Bellanaris had made it so.

There was a shock of lightning thrown in the direction of the mercenaries that had accompanied their leader, and a blue haze surrounding Bellanaris. Cullen remembered, then: Vivienne was revered for more than just her knowledge of the Game. No one stood but Bellanaris on the opposite edge of the forsaken clearing – hand pressed to his wound. He grimaced, nearly fumbling as Cullen ran to him. With the smell of charred flesh in the air, this was no time for pride. 

Cassandra spoke, quickly as she approached them. “Vivienne, what can you do to stop this bleeding?” 

“Commander, hold him up so I can see the wound.” Cullen did. “I can stop the bleeding here, but he will need further medical attention when we make it back to the camp. I do assume you brought a field medic with you, dear?”

Cullen nodded, watching as Madame de Fer – the Lady of Iron – was anything but cold. “Pull through this, my dear. I did not wish to do you this favor in the first place. You owe me in return.”

All he could do was watch. 

And wait. 

And carry.


End file.
